


Come Back to Me

by pizarra



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:27:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pizarra/pseuds/pizarra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Season 2, Merlin left Camelot and Arthur behind. He went back to Ealdor to tell Hunith what happened to Balinor, and stayed there until grief took his mother as well. Now, he has returned to Camelot to continue on as Gaius’ apprentice…and to fulfill his destiny. Returning as Gaius’ apprentice is easy, as the old man requires help; completing his destiny, however, is not. For when Merlin turned his back on his destiny, he only left behind a note of his departure to the prince. Now, Morgana is an advisor, Gwen is still a servant, Gaius is getting on a bit, and Arthur… Well, Arthur is no longer the naïve prince he once was. Merlin once promised to be his servant until the day he died, but he broke that vow soon enough. With the arrival of the boy who still haunts his dreams, will he be able to forgive his once-manservant and welcome him back into Camelot—and his heart—again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back to Me

Arthur was on his way to the training ground, his hand on the hilt of his sword. As king, he has little time for physical activities, so he joins the knights in their training whenever he can. Besides, he desperately needs to get some fresh air. The councilmen have all become irritating as of late.

He jogs down the steps of the castle when he hears Guinevere laugh. He smiles; he hasn’t heard that laugh in a long time, what with magical armies and evil witches attacking Camelot, and he’s glad that she has something to smile about. He glances towards the stables to wave at Gwen, and perhaps to find out who made her laugh, when he sees a familiar mop of black hair and prominent cheekbones.

No. It _couldn’t_ be.

Guinevere sees him and smiles, waving at him to come closer. That’s when the other man turns to look directly at him.

His hair is longer, no longer stuck close on his head as if he’d been wearing a helmet all day. It still resembles a robin’s nest, but the sides hide the tips of his ears. He’s also filled out, both in face and in body, although not so much as to hide his cheekbones or collarbones or neck that is surprisingly bereft of one of his blasted neckerchiefs. His smile is still as bright, but it falters as he sees Arthur, and the probably stunned look on the King’s face. He stops walking, and just _looks_ at Merlin, wondering if his consciousness has somehow conjured up an image of his former manservant. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Guinevere touches Merlin’s arm, and the black-haired boy looks at her, and that’s when Arthur knows that he’s not a mirage. It’s really him. It’s really Merlin. The boy who left him with nothing but a note to tell him that he’s leaving Camelot…leaving Arthur. No explanation, just ‘I’m sorry, Arthur.’ Not even a promise that he’d return.

But now he has, and Arthur doesn’t know how to act. Merlin, the one he considered his best friend, broke his vow, but has come back. For what? Not knowing the answer, and at a loss as to what to do, he just nods, and then turns his back to make his way to the training field. He needs time to think, and the answers won’t come to him just by staring at Merlin. And if his knights come off of the field more knackered than necessary, then that’s nobody’s business but Arthur’s.

 

\----------==========----------

 

The servants are all excited. Well, at least most of them. Whispers of Merlin’s name can be heard, and it follows Arthur everywhere. From the corridors, to the council chambers, to the dining hall. Merlin, it appears, has been quite popular to the serving staff before his departure, and most of the servants who still remember him are excited that he’s back.

Arthur’s nerves are frayed since training, and the council only added to the pressure on his shoulders. They want a queen, and they want one instantly, and they’re not above using Uther’s name as an impetus for him to find a woman to marry. It reached a point where he stood up, announced that the meeting is dismissed, and left the room.

The doors slams shut behind him, much to George’s surprise, if his flinch is any indication. However, he’s a proper manservant, and he ignores Arthur’s bad mood, and continues his task of setting out his dinner. He takes off his cloak, and his sword belt, and sits down to eat. He is about to take a bite when he notices George still hovering nearby. He frowns. George doesn’t attend to him during the night; Arthur hasn’t had a manservant help get him to bed since…Merlin left. And this has always been the circumstances between the King and George. Whatever plates or tubs Arthur uses during the night, George clears out in the morning, so it’s a bit unusual for his manservant to stay. He raises an eyebrow.

“What is it, George?”

George clears his throat. “Um, sire, I just want to ask if I am to serve you in the morning.”

His frown deepens. “Of course you’re to serve me in the morning. What kind of question is that?”

“It’s just that,” George clears his throat again, “your former manservant, sire. He’s returned. I was just wondering—“

“No,” Arthur cuts him off rather forcefully, which he instantly regrets. George is not at fault. “No. He’s—you are still to serve me. I expect you back here in the morning.”

George smiles. “Yes, sire. Thank you, sire.”

 

\----------==========----------

The problem with George leaving every night, is that Arthur has no one to help him when he wants something. Like, for instance, a potion for sleeplessness. Gaius always has some stock of it for Morgana, and he’s sure that his sister wouldn’t mind if he took one.

He opens the door to the physician’s workroom to find Merlin and Gaius, facing each other across the table in an apparently serious conversation. They stop talking as soon as Arthur enters, and both turn to look at him.

Of course, he should have known that Merlin would be staying with his old mentor. Merlin looks surprised, and his mouth open like a fish. Arthur finds a twisted sense of satisfaction in knowing that Merlin is as speechless as him. Arthur stays in his position by the open doorway and stares at the couple back. It is Gaius who breaks the awkward silence.

“Your Highness, Merlin here just arrived—“

“I’m aware,” he interrupts the old man, and he feels terrible for it, but he won’t apologise. Merlin looks down at the table so he continues. “I was wondering if you have any potion for sleeplessness. The ones you make for Morgana?”

A moment comes and goes before Gaius nods and shuffles to one of his work tables. Arthur studiously keeps his eyes on the old man, watching as he carefully selects a bottle from the rows of bottles on the table, watching as Gaius walks to him and hands over the bottle. “Here you are, sire.”

“Thank you, Gaius. Good night.”

He slowly makes his way down the stairs, and, once out on the courtyard, breathes in a lungful of air. Once, twice. He feels tears threaten to spill from his eyes, so he looks up at the stars. Their cheerful twinkling does nothing to make him forget the last five years without Merlin.

 

\----------==========----------

 

He isn’t at all surprised when Morgana enters his chambers the next morning.

“So, he’s back,” Morgana says as she winds her way around the table to face him.

Arthur doesn’t even bother to ask who she’s talking about—she knows him too well, knows when he’s lying. It’s a horrible power of hers. “Apparently so.”

“Have you talked to him?”

Arthur shrugs.

“Arthur…”

“What do you want me to say, Morgana?”

Morgana sighs, but doesn’t answer his question. Instead, she walks to the window to look down at the courtyard. “He’s helping Gaius again, you know. Gwen says that Merlin came back to continue his apprenticeship with Gaius.”

“Good for him,” Arthur replies, and only manages to keep the venom (or pain?) out of his voice.

“Hunith died.”

That makes Arthur straighten up in his seat. Hunith died? “What of?”

She shrugs. “Gwen asked him, but he won’t say. He’s incredibly tight-lipped about it.” Morgana faces him again. “And I see that you still have that bootlicker for a servant.”

He frowns. “George?”

Morgana rolls her eyes at him, and takes the seat beside him. “Yes, George. Why haven’t you sacked him already? Now that Merlin’s back—“

“George is a perfectly good servant.”

“But Merlin—“

“Has made his own choices. My apologies, Morgana, but I need to speak with the knights.”

He gathers the parchments in front of him, and makes his way to the doorway when Morgana says, “He had things to do in Ealdor. He didn’t mean to hurt you. You know that he’ll be glad to serve you again if you just talk to him.”

He leaves her in his chambers, despite not trusting her to not poison his water jug for his abrupt departure.

 

\----------==========----------

 

Funny enough—or it’s funny to Arthur in a twisted sort of way—he runs into Merlin on the training field, handing something to Leon. Arthur didn’t recognise him at first, and by the time Merlin turns around, it’s too late for Arthur to change his course. Arthur knows that he can’t avoid Merlin infinitely, so he squares his shoulders and carries on as if nothing is amiss.

“Leon,” he nods at his First Knight.

“Sire,” Leon replies.

“Sire,” he hears Merlin mumble. He nods in the other’s general direction without looking at him—a feat his father would have been proud of.

Still not looking at Merlin, he addresses Leon. “I looked through the patrol schedules, and have made some changes.”

“I’ll just…be going then. Sire, Sir Leon,” Merlin stammers and walks away, much to Leon’s confusion. Ignoring the pointed look the knight sends his way, he hands the rolls of parchment to Leon, and says, “Check these, and make sure to include the corrections I’ve made. I want it done before nightfall.”

It’s a good thing that Leon is a noble and has proper manners to not ask him about Merlin, as the knight just nods.

For the second time that day, Arthur leaves without saying a word.

 

\---------==========---------

 

He should not have be surprised to find Merlin in his chambers, but he is. Arthur stared at him from the doorway, he knows, but he can’t count the number of times his brain has fooled him into thinking that Merlin is there, made him believe that Merlin didn’t leave, that Merlin is just sleeping in his room, in Gaius’s workroom.

“Arthur,” Merlin says, taking him back to the present.

After dismissing his guards outside, he faces the other man. “Merlin.” It’s the first time he’s said the name aloud, and he looks out the window to see if the gods have come to claim him. The sky is clear, the sun is shining, and Merlin is still here. He would have preferred a heavy storm to match the pounding of his heart. “I heard about your mother. I offer you my condolences. She…was a great woman.”

Merlin blushes at that, so Arthur raises an eyebrow. Was his mother’s death another one of the things Arthur is not supposed to know? He shakes his head as he takes off his gloves. He should have known—expected—that Merlin will still be reluctant to share any information with him. He is nothing to the idiot, after all—thinks of his crown as nothing more than a lump of metal and his heart nothing more than a muscle.

“I…I wanted to tell you, Arthur. But, I…”

“You need not explain to me.”

“I want to explain, Arthur.”

“Merlin,” he looks away to stare out the window, because looking at Merlin’s eager face gives him hope and cuts his heart in equal measure, “please leave. As I am now King, I have more things to do, and a council to attend this evening, so just—“

“Arthur,” Merlin says breathlessly, and his resolve weakens, but not enough.

“Leave.”

“Arthur, please, let me explain.”

Finally, all the hurt and pain he’s felt for the past few years have come to the surface, and Arthur cannot hold them back. “Explain what? Why you left without saying goodbye?”

Merlin takes one step forward, but not close enough for Arthur to see the color of his eyes. “I left you a note.”

Arthur laughs disdainfully. “A note. Oh yes, I remember your note, Merlin, all too well.”

_He woke up from a magnificent sleep, expecting to be woken up by Merlin’s cheerful face, only to be greeted by a piece of parchment on his desk._

_‘Arthur,_

_I must leave Camelot, and go back to Ealdor. I wish I could tell you why, but I can’t. Perhaps someday. I’m sorry, Arthur. Please forgive me._

_Merlin.’_

_He raced to Gaius’ chambers. The sad look on the old man’s face confirms the validity of the note, but still skeptical, he stormed to his manservant’s room. The floor is free of Merlin’s usual clutter, the bed made, the cupboards empty. He spent the rest of the day in that room, clutching the note in his hand._

_He spent the second day rereading the note over and over again until he had it memorized._

_The third night, he went to go hunting alone, and burnt the parchment._

_The fourth day, Morgana found him and took him back to Camelot._

“Arthur, I wanted to tell you! I did! But I couldn’t. You have to understand.”

Angry and hurt, Arthur rounds on Merlin. “Then tell me this: did I mean so little to you that I deserved nothing more than a measly note? Because I can’t understand why you didn’t explain _why_. Had you needed to take care of Hunith, I would have gladly granted you permission!”

“I went home for a different reason; my mother’s sickness came after! I didn’t want to—!“

“Want to what? _Tell the truth_?”

Merlin blushes, and Arthur knows he hit the right target. He steps closer to the other man, impressed when Merlin stands his ground and just _looks_ at him. His words are soft, but laced with steel. “How do you do it? How do you stand there lying to me all the time? With all those secrets inside you, how do you keep them all from spilling out?”

“I had to leave you. I had to.”

“You kissed me!” Arthur shouts, and grips Merlin’s arms. “You kissed me that night, and I kissed you back! And you said—“

_I’ll see you tomorrow, Arthur._

Merlin flushes at that, and Arthur knows that he’s recalling his own words. His anger overcomes him, and he shakes Merlin, whose head dangles back from the force. “You knew you were leaving. You knew! And yet you promised me I’d see you again! Why—“

“I kissed you because I couldn’t live my life without doing so! I kissed you because I wanted you so much.”

“But not enough to stay.” Arthur lets go of Merlin and steps away. “It doesn’t matter. You may keep your apprenticeship with Gaius, but I can’t look at your right now, so just…leave.”

Without another word, Merlin quietly leaves his chambers, but Arthur feels his every movement.

 

\----------=========----------

 

He still sees Merlin in every corner of the castle, but this time, Arthur knows that he’s real, and he’s not going away. Arthur wants to be angry at Morgana and Gwen and Leon for accepting and treating Merlin as if he never left, but he couldn’t, because that would mean explaining. Even Morgana does not know exactly what happened. She was too busy building back her strength and apologising to Arthur for being taken in by Morgause’s words that she never bothered to ask. And, Arthur thinks, she’s afraid to ask.

He also sees Merlin making friends with his newest knights, especially Gwaine. Despite knowing Lancelot from before, Gwaine and Merlin have struck an unlikely friendship, with the knight a regular visitor at the tavern whereas Merlin can barely hold one tankard. Arthur grits his teeth whenever he catches them together—laughing; Gwaine’s arm around Merlin’s shoulders; Merlin spreading salve on Gwaine’s shoulder after an incident at Elyan’s smithy; Gwaine entering the citadel, arm laden with Merlin’s herbs and plants as they come back from the woods just outside the city—but he walks away quickly. Merlin left Arthur, therefore, it is not Arthur’s business whomever Merlin decides to fraternise with.

They are better at avoiding each other. If Arthur has something he needs from Gaius, he sends George. And, after a while, Arthur realises that Merlin also uses George when Gaius sends him his potions and salves. He’s fairly certain that Merlin has also memorised his schedule (or harassed George for it), for he seldom runs into Merlin along the corridors, even during the nasty outbreak of cold they have, when both Gaius and Merlin have to run back and forth to heal people and prevent more citizens from getting ill.

They have settled into a routine.

All that comes stumbling down once Gaius leaves without a word the day after he was questioned about magic.

Merlin walks inside the council chambers once Agravaine leaves. Seeing the raven-haired man, Morgana makes her excuses as well.

“How can you believe this?”

Arthur looks down at the table. Merlin is not looking at him, preferring to stare at the floor with barely contained emotions. “I know how you must feel. We questioned him; he’s been consorting with sorcerers, he more or less admitted it.”

“And that makes him a traitor?”

“Why run if you have nothing to hide?” Arthur asks quietly.

“He’s given his life to this kingdom, he would never betray you,” Merlin replies flatly.

“Then explain his actions.”

That’s when Merlin looks at him. His face is emotionless, but his eyes are tinged with red. “They’re lies; Gaius would never run off in the night.”

Arthur shakes his head. “Look, I know it’s hard. No break-ins were reported, his possessions are missing, a horse has been stolen.”

“He would not leave without saying goodbye to me,” Merlin counters and looks away, his voice cracking near the end.

Arthur sighs as he watches Merlin, not knowing what to say. Yes, Gaius has been a trusted counsel and adviser to Arthur, but he’s more than a mentor to Merlin—Gaius is the father Merlin never had.

“Agravaine has made this story up.”

He looks away. Merlin accusing Agravaine hurts more than Gaius’ departure, for his once-friend would rather believe Arthur’s family of deceit rather than his own. “I shall ignore that last comment.”

But Merlin does not stop there. “Because he’s you’re uncle, you would not see who he really is—?“

“Merlin! I’ve had my heart broken enough today, I don’t want to lose another friend.” Merlin says nothing, but his determination can be read in the jut of his chin, the fierceness in his eyes. And Arthur hates to do this, but Merlin needs to accept that Gaius has betrayed them all. Arthur picks up the grimoire found in the physician’s chambers as he stands up from his chair. He lifts it. “Gaius condemned himself,” he slams the book down back on the table, “there’s no more to be said.”

Arthur leaves the room, all the while aware that Merlin didn’t even look at him as he passed.

\----------==========---------

 

The sight of an unconscious Gaius being brought up the castle is enough to make Arthur feel ashamed. He left Gaius in Gwen’s and Morgana’s good care, since Merlin has yet to come back from where they found the physician. He voiced his concern to Gwaine, who only smiled and told him that Merlin promised to be back, although Arthur detects a hint of worry behind the knight’s eyes. Arthur chooses not to comment on that.

He finds Merlin sitting by Gaius’ bed after breakfast the next day. Morgana has given him permission to visit with Gaius, with a sharp look on her eyes that is both a reprimand and a warning: treat the physician with care or there will be consequences. Arthur is sure to keep that in mind.

They are talking quietly—as they always seem to be, hiding secrets, hiding lies—when he knocks on the door. Their eyes meet as Arthur enters the room, but Merlin turns away too soon, not wanting to see Arthur for a while longer, he supposes. He walks towards them, despite the heavy silence in the air.

“I think I owe both of you an apology,” he says.

Merlin looks at him, then. Really looks. Searching his eyes for sincerity or concern, Arthur does not know. He holds the gaze. It’s a while before Merlin speaks up. “Not to me. To Gaius.”

“Yes,” he replies quietly, “Merlin, will you give us a moment?”

Merlin stands up from his seat, eyes boring into his as he walks by. He nods at Merlin as an acquiescence—he’ll apologise and take care of Gaius at the same time. Despite leaning slightly away, their shoulders still graze, making Arthur take a deep breath at the dash of energy that runs straight to his chest.

 

\----------==========----------

 

Merlin finds him in his chambers, staring out into the night.

“Thank you,” Merlin said, making Arthur jump slightly at the surprise. This Merlin is quieter, more secure in his skin. No longer tripping over his own feet and dragging his boots everywhere.

Arthur turns his attention back outside, watching the torches of the knights and guards as they complete their patrols of the lower town. “For what?”

He feels rather than hears Merlin come closer. “For believing in Gaius.”

He snorts, “If I remember correctly, I actually didn’t. That’s what got Gaius harmed in the first place.”

Merlin huffs out a breath, putting his hands on the cement wall and leans forward. “Yes, well, still…Thank you.”

He nods, despite not knowing whether Merlin’s looking at him with hatred or not. In the end, it does not matter—he just made a grave mistake, and the physician paid for it dearly. That alone gives Merlin the right to look at him however he wants.

“Merlin—“

“Arthur—“

They both stop talking and look at each other. Merlin’s face is full of hopeful optimism, and Arthur can’t help but stare at him. He doesn’t know when he’ll be able to look openly at Merlin again. Even in the soft light of the room, Merlin’s face is still the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen, even better now that he’s grown into a handsome young man. Merlin licks his lips, and Arthur follows the nervous gesture with his eyes, longing to kiss those lips again but knowing that he’s not allowed.

He reminds himself of the facts: Merlin left. Merlin does not want him.

Arthur looks away again.

“When I left—“

“Merlin,” he cuts in, “I don’t want to hear it. Let us not ruin this night.”

“I regretted it the minute I stepped foot in Ealdor,” Merlin continues as if Arthur has not spoken. Arthur grips the wall with a gloved hand, but otherwise staying still. “I meant to go back the next day, but my mother…needed me.”

He processes that information in his head. Something still does not add up. “Then why didn’t you? In fact, why did you leave in the first place? We would have welcomed Hunith here; Gaius could have helped her.”

Arthur looks at Merlin to make sure that the young man tells him no lies. Merlin is staring straight ahead, eyes glistening in the evening light. He doesn’t speak, just keeps on shaking his head as if refusing to answer Arthur’s question. He was all ready to take back the question when he hears it.

“Camelot…has taken much from me, Arthur.”

Arthur frowns, uncertain as to what Merlin is on about. The other man is still shaking his head.

“A lot, Arthur. I have lost plenty. At that time, I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear another loss, another death, another betrayal. Everyone saw me as nothing more than a pitiful, idiotic servant, and yet the pressure was too much to carry. I wanted—no, I needed to leave, so that I can properly mourn what I have lost.”

“What are you talking about? Is it a man? Did you lose someone you love during the dragon’s raze?” He stares at his hands this time, not wanting to hear Merlin’s answer, but desperate for it just the same. Surely he, as Merlin’s master, would have known if Merlin harbored feelings for a person, right?

“What?” Merlin’s choked sob is mingled with a bit of laughter. “What? No! No, I…”

Arthur doesn’t realise he’s been holding his breath until he releases it. However, Merlin’s answer just yields more questions. “Who did you lose?”

“Arthur…” And the king knows that voice—it’s the same one Merlin uses when they’re about to do something dangerous that Merlin does not want him to do. It’s the sound Merlin makes when he’s trying to protect Arthur from whatever lies in their path, as if Arthur is a damsel instead of a knight.

“No, Merlin,” he replies firmly, “No more. No more lies or half-truths. I want the truth, or you walk away right now.”

Moments pass, and Arthur regrets giving an ultimatum, until he hears Merlin’s quiet “Alright.”

He waits.

“My father.”

Wait, what?

“You told me that you’ve never met your father,” Arthur reminds him suspiciously. So he not only lies about the big things, but about even the simplest of things, such as the person who sired him.

Instead of looking apologetic, Merlin nods his head. “Yes, before that final day of the dragon’s attack, I have never met my father.” Merlin then turns to face him, and says in a clear voice. “Balinor was my father.”

The Dragonlord? Arthur is too stunned to say anything, and perhaps Merlin takes that as a sign to carry on, for he continues.

“Gaius told me, before we rode out of Camelot, that my father was Balinor.”

Arthur takes a deep breath to let that information sink in. That fateful day, in a matter of hours, Merlin both met and lost his father. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I couldn’t. Gauis told me that Uther thought of the Dragonlord’s power as something close to magic and a Dragonlord’s son as a sorcerer.”

Arthur grits his teeth. “I am not my father.”

“I know, Arthur. I know.”

“Then why--?”

“I was afraid. We were young. I knew deep inside that you’re nothing like Uther, but I was scared of what you’d think of me, just the same. I couldn’t stand to see you change the way you look at me. And I—“ Merlin lets out a breath, “But then, Balinor died, and we had to go back to Camelot to defeat the dragon. And after that, I just couldn’t…stay. The pain was too much, the price of staying here was too high, and I couldn’t take it anymore.” Merlin’s voice breaks and there are tears in his eyes. “And despite being away, I still lost everything. My mother…my mother succumbed to grief. She couldn’t work anymore, so I helped put food on the table. And then she…”

Arthur nods, not saying a thing. He may not have known his mother, but he has lost a father, and the grief stays with you even after years. He can only imagine how Merlin must feel, with Hunith’s death so fresh.

“So you came back here.”

Merlin nods. “I sent a letter telling Gaius that my mother has died, and he replied with an invitation to come back. So I came back…for you.”

Arthur can’t help the derisive laugh coming from him. “Right.”

The other man looks down at his feet on that. Arthur wants to feel sorry, but he doesn’t.

“Arthur…”

“I’m sorry. About Hunith...and your father. I know what it’s like to lose parents.” Merlin says nothing. “And thank you for telling me.” He pushes off the wall he was leaning on and walks past Merlin to the bed. “I think it’s time we both retire.”

“ _Arthur_ …”

He raises a hand as a command for Merlin to stop talking. Surprisingly, he does. “I,” he sighs, unsure if what he’s about to say is smart, but determined nonetheless, “I understand, I think…why you did it. But I don’t want to think anymore. Let’s give ourselves—me—some time.”

Arthur hears Merlin’s quiet intake of breath and his soft movements to the door. “Yes, Sire. Good night.”

“Good night,” he whispers so softly that he doubts Merlin heard him. He’s absolute that he made the right decision. Completely absolute.

 

\----------==========----------

 

It was the day Merlin followed him to the Druids’ shrine that his resolve weakens. They have taken Elyan to Gaius to be treated, and they were both ushered out of the physician’s chambers. Subconsciously, they both walk towards Arthur’s chambers as if the last five years apart didn't happen. They sit at the table in front of the fire, both too emotionally exhausted to do anything beyond stare at space. It’s Merlin who breaks the silence.

“It wasn’t just about Elyan, though, was it? You meant it? I know you did.”

Arthur keeps quiet, though he knows Merlin can see the truth. He looks at his former manservant, sitting comfortably at his table as if he (always) belonged there, following him in the middle of the night to see if he’s alright, making sure Elyan is recovering completely. Five years has passed, and Merlin is still the bravest, kindest, and most idiotic person he has ever known. The wound on his forehead is starting to yellow, and Arthur, being the weak man that he is, leans forward to touch it. Merlin stops talking nonsense and looks at Arthur, questions swimming in his eyes.

“You didn’t trip over a root, did you?” he asks softly. And there it is again, the shifting of Merlin’s eyes as the younger man tries to think of ways to convince Arthur otherwise. He lowers his hand to Merlin’s jaw and cups it, triumphant in keeping Merlin’s eyes on him. “Did you?” he repeats, more firmly this time.

“No.” His hold on Merlin tightens, causing the younger man to touch Arthur’s hand with his own, reining in his anger. “I saw Elyan in the forest. I tried to stop him, but he…knocked me out.” Arthur hisses softly. “Elyan is your friend—our friend. I knew he was possessed, and I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“So you let him hurt you instead?”

“Arthur, he wasn’t in his right mind.”

Arthur shakes his head at Merlin’s stupid bravery. “Don’t do that again,” he says sharply before leaning closer to press his lips against Merlin’s.

The feel of Merlin’s lips is akin to coming home—all soft angles and pliant warmth. He licks the seams of Merlin’s closed lips, twice, before the younger man opens them and lets him in, tongue begging to be sucked. Withing moments, Arthur finds himself on his knees between Merlin’s legs, greedily drinking in every breath and sigh Merlin gives to him, thoroughly exploring the hidden caverns of Merlin’s mysterious mouth. Arthur could have gone on for ages, but they need to breathe, so he lets go of Merlin’s mouth and settles a hand around Merlin’s neck.

Merlin chases after his mouth, causing him to smile. The younger man blushes, but determined to get what he wants, so Arthur stands and pulls Merlin up with him.

“ _Arthur_ …” Merlin groans, needy, desperately, and Arthur’s cock hardens.

Before long, he has Merlin spread on the bed, the red sheets providing a stark contrast to his long, pale skin. Merlin is past coherence, wrapping his legs around Arthur’s waist as he mumbles things Arthur does not understand but accepts as confessions anyway. Arthur catches Merlin’s dithering hands in his and pins them to the bed, before snapping his hips harder against Merlin’s.

Every pounding results in Merlin grunting, breathing ragged as his feet dig into Arthur’s arse, trying to get him closer, and Arthur does shift nearer until there’s nowhere else for him to go. He burrows his head in the crook of Merlin’s shoulder, licking the sweat that has pooled there and nipping at the collarbones that were the objects of his numerous dreams, all the while maintaining the delicious rhythm of their coupling.

“Arthur,” Merlin whispers, voice wrecked despite not shouting, “Arthur, please, I’m close…so _so close_.”

He grips Merlin’s hands tighter, refusing to let go. He shakes his head. “No, not yet. I want this to last.”

“ _Arthur_ ,” Merlin sobs, and the sound goes straight to his cock. Arthur’s pace quickens, the air thickens with the smell of arousal, and his throat releases groans in tune with Merlin’s quiet begging, and then he feels it: the tightening of Merlin’s muscles, clenching around his girth, trying to milk him for all his worth.

He puts Merlin’s right hand on his shoulder, and then reaches for Merlin’s cock between them, pulling it in time with their thrusts. Immediately, Merlin pulls him closer and bites his shoulder as he comes between their stomachs—long, thick come painting their skins, and filling the air with its musky scent. Arthur follows shortly after, releasing into Merlin’s warm, supple heat, catching the open red lips beneath his in a messy, sloppy kiss.

After riding out their orgasm, Arthur pulls off and collapses on top of Merlin, not minding the mess between them. Merlin lowers his legs with a sharp groan.

“Did I hurt you?” Arthur asks, thumb tracing one high cheekbone in a comforting manner. He was careful in preparing Merlin, but he could have lost control towards the end…

Merlin snorts. “No, Arthur. I’m not really a girl, you know.”

Now, it’s Arthur’s turn to snort, earning him a severe slap on the shoulder. “Ow!”

After their breathing have returned to normal, he pushes off of Merlin.

“Where are you going?” Merlin asks, voice heavy with sleep.

“Just getting some wet cloths. We’re messy. Don’t worry about it.”

After cleaning up, Arthur climbs next to Merlin, gathers the other man close. Merlin whispers something that he doesn’t quite catch, but he’s not overly concerned. However, he does need to say something to his stubborn… _whatever_ , so he gently taps Merlin’s shoulder. “Merlin? Are you awake?”

“’T is it?” Merlin grunts, opening one sleepy eye.

“Don’t do that again.”

Even while tired, Merlin still manages to roll his eyes. “We’re not back to that again, are we?”

“I mean it, Merlin. I can’t—“

“Arthur, Elyan wasn’t—“

“I’m not just talking about what happened with Elyan. What about Sigan? Or the dragon? Merlin, stop putting yourself in danger.”

“I’ll stop when you stop. You’re king now, Arthur, Camelot needs you. Alive. And it’s my job to make sure you don’t risk your neck more than necessary.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

Arthur glides a hand down Merlin’s cooling back, then up to his neck again. He closes his eyes as he pulls Merlin even closer. He wants to commit this memory, all of it—Merlin’s warm, supple body beside his, Merlin’s soft breaths tickling his chest, the way Merlin’s hand rests above his heart, his delicious smell—before he asks the ultimate question.

“Does that mean you’re staying?” he whispers, somehow praying that Merlin is already asleep and didn’t hear him.

He feels Merlin lift his head from his chest, and slender fingers cupping his cheek. He dares to open his eyes to look at the other man.

“I’m staying, Arthur. Until you no longer want me.”

“You…you made that promise before…”

“I know. But I was young, Arthur.”

“And now?”

“And now, I know where I truly belong. Here. With you. If you’ll have me.”

Arthur leans back into the pillows as he chuckles. “You really _are_ an idiot.”

Merlin kisses his laughter away.

**Author's Note:**

> I believe that Morgana would have returned to being good if destiny didn't make Merlin its bitch. She lost that last shred of compassion when Merlin tried to poison her, all because some stupid dragon and druid told him to.
> 
> Anyway, apparently, I really, really suck at short fics because this was supposed to be a 4K-word fic. Seriously. But I needed this to practice the Merlin characters again for [All the Wooing is Done](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1010150/chapters/2004595) so that I could finish that thing. Comments/Reviews are most welcome! And if I don't reply, please don't think that I'm ignoring you! Work has been tough lately. :)


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